Music and Harmony
by musicprincess1990
Summary: An iPod/playlist story! Ten drabbles, all Harmony, based on a random song selection. Please read and review! Rated T just to be safe.


A/N: Here's a little iPod/song challenge for you! Ten Harmony drabbles based on the songs on my playlist. And once you've finished with the story, **PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END!**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

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"**He Won't Go" –Adele**

Another day, another midnight. Hermione sighed; with each passing hour, her heart grew heavier. Her eyelids were heavy, too, but she swore to stay awake at least until the last strike of the grandfather clock in the living room. It was that last strike that was often her undoing.

Alas, it came, and nothing. Not even a whisper of his return. Hermione's eyes filled with tears. He'd been gone for three weeks. This was the longest mission he'd ever taken, and she was starting to worry. She still heard from him—vague, emotionless letters, informing her of his location and the direness of the situation—but it wasn't the same as finally having him here, having him _home_.

Her friends insisted she'd be better off without him. But she refused. When Harry did finally come home (and she was certain he would), she would be there for him. No matter what. They would never make it on their own.

"**On the Front Porch" –from Disney's **_**Summer Magic**_

Harry heaved a contented sigh as Hermione sat beside him on the porch swing. She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her breathing in rhythm with his own. His arm wound around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, and he pressed a kiss into her hair. They remained silent for a while, both watching the full moon make its path over the houses in the surrounding neighborhood.

After a moment, Hermione asked, "So, what do you want to do?"

Harry just smiled, and squeezed her again. "This," he replied simply.

"**Ellsworth, Kansas" –Rascal Flatts**

Felicity Potter approached her grandmother with trepidation; the old woman rarely remembered her name, much less their blood relation. It had been heartbreaking to watch her memories slowly slip away. But that didn't stop Felicity from trying. As a Healer in training, she wanted to learn all she could about her grandmother's ailing mind, and maybe, someday, she could find a way to heal it.

Today, she was holding a leather-bound book of photographs. She didn't recognize many of the faces, but she did know two of them: her grandparents. And she wanted to see if Hermione Potter recognized them.

"H-Hermione?" she asked, using her given name, so as not to frighten her.

The older woman turned from her knitting, and smiled kindly. "Yes?"

"I, er... I found these photographs, and I was wondering if you could tell me about them. You're in a lot of them."

"Oh?" she asked, seeming surprised. "Well, now, let me see..."

Felicity opened the book, and showed her. Instantly, Hermione's face lit up with recognition, and her eyes glistened with tears. Felicity watched as her grandmother lovingly stroked the eternally young face of Harry James Potter. "Oh, my Harry," she whispered. "How I miss you."

"**I See the Light" –from Disney's **_**Tangled**_

Harry gazed at Hermione from across the boat. They were gliding smoothly across the safer part of the Black Lake, surrounded by glittering lights. Hermione smiled at him, and a strange feeling pooled in his stomach, forcing him to take a shuddering breath to steady himself.

All this time, he'd been living in a sort of blur, not seeing things clearly. It wasn't until now, seeing his best friend, hair shining and skin glowing in the soft, gently twinkling lights, that he realized what he'd been missing.

He was in love with her.

"**Dream a Little Dream of Me" –Mama Cass Elliot**

A gentle breeze combed through Hermione's hair as she stood on her balcony, her face turned heavenward. As she admired the beauty of the stars, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist from behind. She smiled sadly, leaning into his embrace, while he trailed feather-light kisses along the side of her neck.

"Do you really have to go?"

Harry sighed. "It's a conference for almost every Auror in the world. As a Head Auror here at our Ministry, I really can't afford _not_ to go."

Sighing, much as he had, she turned in his arms, still wearing that sad smile. "Well," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips, "be sure to dream of me while you're gone, yes?"

He grinned. "I don't have much of a choice."

"**Get it Right" –from **_**Glee**_**, performed by Lea Michele**

Hermione's heart shattered as the reality sank in. She'd lost him. She'd lost her best friend, and it was entirely her fault. All she'd wanted to do was help him, to keep him safe. She really didn't think he would be so upset. Though she supposed she should have guessed as much. It was, after all, his broomstick.

_I did what I had to do_, she reminded herself. If Sirius Black _had_ sent him the broom, who knows what he could have done to it? It could be jinxed. Just like when he had received the broom, her mind flitted to two years ago, when Harry had nearly fallen to his death by Professor Quirrell's hand (or, more accurately, _eyes_). She couldn't bear to see something like that happen again.

She'd done the right thing, she told herself again and again. Then why did it feel so wrong? She feared she would never know.

"**Not Over You" –Gavin DeGraw**

Her face continued to flash before his eyes, even after he'd opened them. Harry sat in his bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He couldn't count the times he'd dreamed of his best friend. After about three hundred, he stopped keeping track.

At one time, the dreams had been welcome—they'd been together, then. A happy couple, young and in love. Then she'd turned and changed her mind, claiming it was simply a fling. Of course, like the love-struck idiot he was, he just accepted it, and kept being her friend. Every day, he pretended he was fine. He lied constantly, told everyone he didn't think of her that way anymore. He'd use her words: it was just a fling. But they never believed it. _He_ never believed it.

He knew damn well he wasn't over her.

"**F**king Perfect" –P!nk**

Harry climbed the steps to the Astronomy tower warily. His outright fear during his search for Hermione had eased, for she was clearly here, but was replaced with dread and apprehension.

She was crying. Hermione Granger was _crying_. She rarely cried.

"Hermione?"

She didn't speak, but the sniffles and sobs quieted. He found her standing at the balcony, wiping her eyes fruitlessly as her tears continued to fall.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," she waved him off, but when she received a stern look from him, she sighed, and relented. "I, er... overheard some of the girls in my dormitory saying some rather... unkind things about me. I won't bore you with the details."

Harry didn't _want_ to know the details. The less he knew, the less likely he would be to commit murder. "Hermione, don't even listen to them," he told her. "You're perfect the way you are."

She smiled at him. "Really? You really think so?"

He grinned. "Definitely."

"**But Not for Me" –George Gershwin**

It was a wonderful sight; Ron lifted his glass with everyone else as they toasted to him and his lovely bride. Then, right on cue, he turned and kissed Luna, causing the guests to applaud—and, in Seamus' case, to emit some loud catcalls. It was a joyous occasion, and everyone seemed to be radiating happiness.

Except for one.

Despite the cheer surrounding her, Hermione couldn't help the deep melancholy that filled her, nearly pushing tears out. All around her were perfectly happy couples—some were newlyweds, some were still in the early stages, and some seemed to be approaching their golden anniversaries. They were everywhere, and they were just rubbing it in her face. Unintentionally, of course, but it still hurt.

Hermione was the only single person at the party. She hadn't been asked to dance, hadn't been offered a drink, hadn't even received so much as a glance from the men surrounding her. Oh, they greeted her cordially, conversed politely, but then each one promptly returned to his wife, girlfriend, or fiancée. And she was left alone.

_I'm sick of this_, she thought bitterly. _No more waiting. I guess they just won't be writing any love songs for me_.

"**So Close" –from Disney's **_**Enchanted**_

"Wanna dance?" he asked.

Hermione glanced at him, surprised. They'd both been abandoned by their dates—Ginny suddenly become violently ill, and Ron had decided that drinking was more important than entertaining his girlfriend. Even so, she hadn't expected Harry to make such a query. But, ever polite, she answered, "Okay."

Harry led her to the center of the dance floor, as a quiet waltz began to play. He'd never been much of a dancer, but he could handle a waltz. They danced in relative silence, neither of them speaking much.

It wasn't until they neared the end of the song that Hermione really _looked_ at her partner. He really was quite dashing, in his black-and-emerald dress robes. His hair, messy as ever, was a striking contrast against his only slightly-tanned skin, and brilliant green eyes. Those eyes... they were her undoing. One look into them, and suddenly, she found she couldn't look away. She took comfort, however, in the fact that Harry seemed to be likewise incapable of breaking their intense gaze.

Hermione didn't register that they'd stopped dancing, for her sole focus was on the color of Harry's eyes. There were little flecks of golden brown in them, when you got close enough to see them. And she was _very_ close. Getting closer, it seemed. _Oh, Merlin, is he going to kiss me_?

"Mind if I cut in?" a voice asked.

They both turned to see a rather inebriated Ron standing beside them. He didn't wait for a response before snatching Hermione and squeezing her to him in an awkward half-hug, half-dance. She fought against the rush of disappointment, but it came over her in a wave as she spotted Harry, still standing where they'd left him, gazing at them with an almost mournful expression.

_They were so close..._

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A/N: Kind of a somber ending, but hey, the playlist speaks. ;) Anyways, so here's the part where _you_ come in! _**PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW!**_ I cannot emphasize that enough! And please, tell me which drabble is your favorite. WHICHEVER DRABBLE WINS, I WILL CONTINUE WITH THAT STORYLINE! I have ideas for each of these, and I would be happy to add on to any one of them. However, since I obviously can't do all of them, and I can't make a decision to save my life, I want you to choose! :D So please, REVIEW!


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